I was born on the stroke of twelve, between the 30th and 31st of July, 1751. To some I am the foremost keyboard player in Europe but to others, I am the overlooked sister of a genius. The matter is complicated. I write music for the bottom drawer while living in Salzburg with my dear Mama. Papa is in Rome with Wolfie to enshrine my brother's talents and in the year, 1770, I am destined for marriage, not a career. Maria Anna Walburga Ignatia Mozart - Nannerl for short.

Monday, October 17, 2005

My lover

I have been avoiding this - a description that goes beyond the white silk stockings and the lace handherchief. Well, if you hear it from me, you hear it from the one person who has the right to say it. When he smiles, I laugh. When he is serious, I am as long faced as a horse. Yes, I desire him when I fall asleep. Yesterday I composed a Rondo with a tune he whistled on a sleigh ride in the woods. During this same sleigh ride, he took my hand from out of my muff and kissed it as Mama was not looking. He has a small tuft of golden hair inside each nostril and I saw the reflection of my eyes in his - we were that close. It will cost me six kreuzer per sheet to have my music copied, so being poor and unwilling to copy it myself, I will send him the original. In my next entry, I hope to have some good news but I must neither rejoice nor worry too soon. N